


Lucifer Wept

by OfTheDunedain



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, Memory Loss, Octome 2020, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Spoiler for Chapter 38., The demons are really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheDunedain/pseuds/OfTheDunedain
Summary: The moment the sorcerer stepped from the bedroom, his world blurred as tan hands gripped at his sleeves to slam him back into the wall. The force was enough to shake the portraits that hung along the hallway, and though a couple other hands reached in to try and pry the first pair away, they did not seem to be making much headway. “What did ya do to ’em, huh? Why aren’t they wakin’ up?”The sting of the impact was still trailing down the silver-haired human’s spine, but he cast a grim, sorrowful look back over his shoulder toward the door as if he felt no discomfort at all. “I don’t know,” Solomon murmured in answer, his shoulders slumping. He had researched the rite; he had started even before he had found the Night Dagger amidst the reaper’s cavern, and he had nearly run himself into the ground making sure that every part of the chant was memorized, every line of the circle could be mimicked without flaw, and all power could be steadily maintained. “I don’t know,” he repeated, the sound bitter upon his lips.--***Spoiler for Chapter 38 of Obey Me!!***A one-shot that explores the idea of what might have happened had the Night Dagger been used in the ritual.Octome 2020, Day 24: Memory Loss
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Lucifer Wept

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say this again: Spoilers for Chapter 38! 
> 
> It's an AU, but it's going to mention story things that come from this chapter, so be warned! 
> 
> Also, TW: ANGST. It's pretty tough on the demon boys this go 'round. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and don't make yourself as depressed as I did while writing it. Hahahaha.

The moment the sorcerer stepped from the bedroom, his world blurred as tan hands gripped at his sleeves to slam him back into the wall. The force was enough to shake the portraits that hung along the hallway, and though a couple other hands reached in to try and pry the first pair away, they did not seem to be making much headway. “What did ya do to ’em, huh? Why aren’t they wakin’ up?”

The sting of the impact was still trailing down the silver-haired human’s spine, but he cast a grim, sorrowful look back over his shoulder toward the door as if he felt no discomfort at all. “I don’t know,” Solomon murmured in answer, his shoulders slumping. He had researched the rite; he had started even before he had _found_ the Night Dagger amidst the reaper’s cavern, and he had nearly run himself into the ground making sure that every part of the chant was memorized, every line of the circle could be mimicked without flaw, and all power could be steadily maintained. “I don’t know,” he repeated, the sound bitter upon his lips.

“What do ya mean ya don’t know?” Mammon growled, brow pinched over his nose in a hostile show that few had ever seen on him before. “I thought ya said the ritual was _safe_?”

“Mammon,” Beel pleaded, his large hand tugging upon his older brother’s arm. “Stop, all right? This isn’t what they would want.” His voice was heavy, though; none could have missed the weight of worry in his tone.

It seemed like an hour passed before Mammon’s grip finally loosened, though it was but a few seconds. The sorcerer sighed the moment he was free, shoving himself from the wall and shambling away toward the living room. He was vaguely aware of the demons following at his heels, but he was too tired to care.

“Simeon,” he rasped as he stepped through the threshold. Ahead, the two angels he had come to know were standing in wait, and both looked to him concernedly. “I can’t do anything more—I think it’s up to them now.”

Simeon’s fair features twitched downward, the press of sorrow and worry sinking into his spirit with the same weight the brothers had felt. Still, he forced himself to nod. “Rest. Luke and I will keep an eye on them. Come, Luke.”

For a moment—just a fraction—he made eye contact with Lucifer, though the tall, black-haired demon did not seem able to stomach the angel’s attention for long. He seemed to shrink in the back, arms crossed and lips tightly sealed. Perhaps there were none in the House of Lamentation that felt guiltier than he.

Solomon sank onto the sofa, the standard debonair and guarded air about him gone completely. His pale skin now looked tinged in grey, and in the hours he had frantically sat at your side, dark bruises had formed beneath his pale eyes. “Someone needs to tell Diavolo it’s been done,” Solomon announced to the silent room.

Nobody moved to comply, though.

“…It feels weird, not having their pact anymore,” Levi mumbled.

Mammon’s lips twisted into a scowl, and his blue eyes flashed with that golden spackle that mimicked the arc of lightning. “Shut it, Levi,” he growled in warning. He had felt it, of course; the moment the ritual had severed you from the Celestial Realm. From the Devildom. From _him_. It had been a detachment, one that made him feel suddenly alone—and it was something he could not ever reclaim.

Who the hell had decided that once a pact was severed it could not be made again? It was merely another thing his father had screwed up. This was wrong.

And now you had not woken up.

“What happened, though? I thought you said the ritual _wasn’t_ meant to knock them out,” Asmodeus inquired, his pale eyes watering enough that the light overhead was gleaming in their reflection.

“…I think they passed out from the pain,” Solomon mumbled.

A pair of green eyes scowled. “You essentially carved out a piece of their soul! I bet cutting those ties was a bigger gamble than you and Diavolo thought.”

Solomon glared up at Satan, lip lifting in a snarl. “Look, nothing like this has been done before! Sure, the Night Dagger has been used to sever demonic ties before—but _Celestial_? I did the best I could!”

“Yeah? And what if they don’t wake up, hm? It’s been hours!” Satan retorted, the air about him beginning to pulse and swirl. The air around his head began to flicker, his horns fading into and out of existence like breath.

“They’ll wake up,” Beelzebub interrupted. “They have to. They promised they’d go to Hells Kitchen with me when this is all over.” Despite his words, the redheaded demon’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes shifted to eye the direction of your room once more.

“Beel,” his twin murmured.

Lucifer flinched, the sound of his brother’s concern like a battering ram. This was his fault. He had lost his memory; if he had just been _aware_ maybe he could have done something—but by the time he had figured out what was going on, you had already fallen into whatever sleep this was. You were slipping through his fingers, and he had never even had a chance to say a farewell.

“Y-yeah,” Leviathan interjected. “The new expansion to Mononoke Land comes out next week, and we’re going to play together.”

“…I already got tickets to a play I wanted to take them to,” Satan whispered, wrath finally fizzling away as his eyes darkened.

“They’re pretty resilient for a human,” Asmodeus offered after a moment. “I know they won’t give up. Right?” For a moment the room was silent.

“This—” Lucifer began, but before his words could form, Luke appeared in the doorway.

“They’re awake!” His little voice announced, and immediately the eight people in the living room bounded to their feet.

“Thank god,” Mammon whispered, though none of his brothers heard the thankful prayer. His feet were moving before he had even made up his mind to go, but his brothers were close on his heels.

“Wait!” Luke tried, though the demons were barreling past him faster than he could manage to stop them. “I said _wait_!” The brothers still did not listen, and the littlest angel heeled them all the way down the hall. “There’s something wrong—don’t all go in there at once!”

His call, though, did not seem to catch any of them; in a group, they burst through the door, finding Simeon sitting on the side of your bed, hand drawing a cool cloth over your pallid forehead. The burst of seven figures coming through your door was enough to have you cry out in surprise, though the sound was meek and raspy—your throat felt like it was on fire, and the jolt that had wracked through you made all of your limbs feel like they had been beaten with a hammer.

“You’ve got some nerve, ya know?” Mammon declared, and though he frowned at you, his eyes were watering more than any of the others beside him. “Makin’ the Great Mammon worry like ya did—ya owe me for this, got it?”

“…Who’s the Great Mammon?” You inquired after a moment, eyes raking over the figures nervously. You thought you had counted seven, but now there were eight. And while you could not explain it, the last, new figure did not _feel_ like the rest.

“Whaddya mean, _‘who’s the Great Mammon’_?” The Avatar of Greed countered, though a few sniggers flit beneath it like an underscore.

“LOL! Buuuuuurn,” Levi declared. “Looks like (Y/N) is just fine if they can be _this_ savage, anyway.”

Your eyes blinked, brow knitting over your nose the heart in your chest beat just a shade louder and quicker, and your fingers coiled into the sheets as if you were holding on for your life. “Who’s (Y/N)?”

It was only then that the demons froze, their breath catching in their lungs as they processed your feeble, fearful question.

“…That’s your name,” Satan finally pressed. “You…you don’t remember your name?”

Your wide eyes shot to Simeon, and he gently squeezed your hand. “It’s all right, little lamb. Give me a moment to talk with them. You just rest for now.”

Your eyes marked the man uneasily for a moment. You had no idea where you were; the man who so easily called you _‘little lamb’_ was just as much a stranger as everyone else. Still, there was something about his eyes and something about his aura that lulled you back into trust. Like sunlight. Like a promise. “…All right.”

He smiled, eyes heavier than the otherwise pristine curl of his lips, and the man stood and quietly motioned for the brothers to step outside once more. Two of the figures lingered behind the rest, however; one was crowned in hair that was whiter than fresh snow. The other sported locks on the opposite end of the spectrum, and red eyes that burned your skin for the iron feeling his sorrow seemed to settle in your gut.

“Lucifer, Mammon,” Simeon called quietly. “Please.” At last, they turned too, though they seemed to blink through recognition slowly. “We’ll be right back,” the angel assured you quietly over his shoulder as he quietly shut the door behind him.

“This is a joke, right?” Levi spluttered the moment the gentle _click_ had sounded in the hallway. “Lucifer _just_ got over his memory loss—(Y/N) couldn’t have lost theirs, right?” His burnt-gold eyes seemed to flick over each of his brother’s faces in turn, desperate, it seemed, to see agreement upon one of their features. All he was met with, though, were grey expressions that could have belonged at a funeral.

“I’m afraid it’s not a joke,” Simeon murmured. “They seem to have no recollection of anything. Not themselves, nor the human realm, nor the Devildom.”

“Yeah, but they forgot _us?_ ” Asmo interjected, brow pinched. “I could understand if it was someone else, but _me_?”

“Shut it, Asmo,” Mammon snapped, the sound low and sharp. It was enough to make most of the brothers flinch. It was not often that the second born used such serious, dark tones; perhaps that was why it rattled the group so thoroughly.

“We…didn’t know what all the side effects would be,” Solomon muttered. “The Night Dagger severed all of their connection with the Celestial and Demonic realms, but…it’s possible those things were interwoven deeper than either Diavolo or I had guessed.”

“…Can ya get their memories back?” Mammon managed to ask, his blue eyes marking Solomon in a steady, mournful way that caused the sorcerer’s shoulders to slump. “This is temporary, right? Say it is. I can’t stand the thought of ’em not rememberin’ any of us!”

“I…I don’t know,” Solomon answered tentatively. “Maybe given time—”

He was interrupted by a growl, and Lucifer turned upon his heels to slam his fists against the wall. The plaster cracked, and the portraits that lined the hall tilted, though none of that was as disturbing as the deep, rattling breaths the demon was drawing. “This shouldn’t have happened,” he hissed, his own ire frothing beneath the surface. “If I’d been in my right mind, I would have stopped this! There had to have been another way!”

“Lucifer,” Beel murmured, broad shoulders curling upon themselves as if carrying too much weight. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Solomon agreed. “Actually…before…before we started the ritual, (Y/N) wrote out some letters, just in case. There’s one for everyone.”

“You mean they _thought_ this was going to go badly?” Belphie growled, hand tightening into a fist.

The silver-haired sorcerer shook his head, though the motion seemed more thoughtful than strictly a motion in disagreement. “I wouldn’t say that. They seemed optimistic—but they _were_ worried.”

“Of course they were! You kept saying how this was going to be painful,” Satan seethed, emerald eyes flashing.

“Not about the ritual,” Solomon mumbled. “…About all of you. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deliver these, but I suppose now I’d better.” His hand reached into his cloak, producing envelops from inside his pocket. For a moment he just stared, marking the script upon the face of the first letter, though perhaps seeing something much further away. “They made me promise that Lucifer would get his first…so,” Solomon’s voice trailed off, and one hand extended the letter outward with only a faint tremble visible running through his fingers.

For a moment Lucifer glowered at the proffered paper, though his fury seemed to fold in upon itself the longer he looked at his name penned by your hand upon its face. Slowly he reached to accept the note, and with a quick _“excuse me”_ made quick work of retreating back toward the living room.

The silence in there mocked him; it implied calm when there was nothing but storm around. It had been many, many millennia since he had felt this helpless, and it took all of Lucifer’s strength to cross the large, empty room to sink upon the sofa, black gloves gingerly working the letter open.

_Dear Lucifer,_

_If you’re reading this, I guess the ritual didn’t go like we wanted. I’ve written one of these for everyone, but I asked Solomon to give you yours first. I don’t know if the Night Dagger fixed your memories, but I hope so. Things must have been frightening, waking up and not knowing where you were or the people around you. I can honestly say you are stronger than most, because I could not see even a hint of that fear in you! Not that you need me to tell you you’re strong, right? You’ve been carrying your family’s burdens for thousands of years._

_But that’s why I wanted to write this to you: Lucifer, this is one burden I want you to put down._

_If things went poorly, I can only imagine how much you must be trying to blame yourself. I didn’t sign up for this ritual because someone was forcing me to, all right? Lord Diavolo and Solomon told me that if this power went unchecked, not only could I hurt the people I love the most, but I could destroy the three realms._

_Can you imagine? I was just a desk jockey, but suddenly I could topple Heaven? But I digress._

_I was even hurting you—and I promise that was never my intention. I’m a mortal anyway, right? Death is inevitable. I figured if there was a chance I could save everyone in the three realms, even if the risk was high, it was a pretty good trade off. There are a lot of beautiful things out there, you know? I didn’t want to destroy them by being selfish._

_And that brings me to my final, most important point: I didn’t take this risk for you, so you have nothing to feel guilty over. I would have done this had you not been affected, or even if it had been one of your brothers! I did this for me, because I could not stomach hurting anyone, and I wanted to protect my dysfunctional demon family the same as you do. It’s not only your job, you know?_

_I kind of wish I could give you a smile so you know I’m telling the truth, but given the circumstances just know I have no regrets—so I want you to have none, too. Thank you for my time in the Devildom. I know we didn’t start out on the best of terms, but I grew to love you just like I grew to love everyone I met at RAD. Just remember to take a break every once in a while for your own sanity—even if its just as a favor to me._

_I’ve asked Levi to try and step outside more. I know you worry that shutting himself away completely is bad for his health, and I know that he really does want to be with you all deep down. Maybe that new café event with Ruri-chan would be a good thing for you to take him to! I don’t know if you remember binge watching the anime with us while your memory was gone, but I think the three of us enjoyed it._

_And I know you’re worried about Asmo’s grades in Hexes class, so I told him that I thought being able to do curses was sexy. I don’t know if it will work, but maybe it will help. Feel free to tell him I think good grades are attractive as often as you need—if it works, that is._

_As for Belphie and Satan, I know their issues with you wear on you more than you say. Try to remember that Satan has a hard time stepping out from your shadow, and that’s in part because you cast a very big one. I told them both to give you a bit of a break, of course, but you know how well that usually takes. If you don’t remember, though, just believe me when I say those two might have been the most worried about you when you lost your memory. Not that they’d ever admit it._

_Most importantly, I want you to take care of Beel and Mammon for me. They’re not going to understand why I was happy to do the things I did at the end—and I’m worried about them. They’re both far more fragile than they like to let on. Though, I bet you already know that, hm? You are the best oldest brother they could have, after all._

_Please take care of yourself. If there is a way for me to watch over you from the other side, I promise I’ll be there with you every step of the way. If my pacts with you guys got me sent for eternal punishment instead, maybe you can swing getting me out! Haha, okay, that was a joke—but I mean it when I say that I prayed for you and your family before I even wrote this letter. Maybe that doesn’t mean much to you now, but I wished only for your happiness._

_Forever your human,_

_(Y/N)_

_Forever his human_?

Your signature blurred as a water droplet fell to splatter against his black leather gloves, and the shaky, trembling breath the Avatar of Pride drew matched the waver that rattled the paper that spread from his fingertips. “But you don’t even know who I am,” he whimpered down to the paper. It was cruel; you had thought the worst thing that could happen was your own death. He, though, now knew he was living in something far worse than that.

Maybe he could speak to Barbatos; maybe there was a way to fix this. Still, that was going to have to wait. After all, if you thought _he_ had been frightened when he had suddenly awoke with no memory, likely you were too. And, if he could do nothing else for you despite his power, Lucifer wanted to be certain you felt safe.

And _that_ meant the first step was going to be making sure he took a moment to collect himself; you did not need to know the size of the fissure his spirit now carried. A heart as kind as yours was certain to feel guilty; not even memory loss would change that about you. So, not caring that there were many eyes peering in from the doorway, Lucifer wept.


End file.
